Earlier this year while watching Jazz, filmmaker Ken Burns’s documentary series, I was struck by a comment from Chicago 
jazz great Eddie Condon. A leader in the desegregation of jazz, Condon observed that when white musicians first came on the scene they were eager to play jazz but “stiff with education.” I was reminded that as we in the West embrace the ancient tradition of yoga, we need to leave room for the earthy elements that keep a yoga practice as playful as it is serious.Contemporary yoga, highly influenced by Western culture, has taken the practice to whole new levels of anatomical precision. And there’s no doubt about it: Technique and form matter. Proper form harnesses our energy and puts it to good use. Biomechanical details guide us around obstacles and help us avoid pitfalls. Yet if we become too attached to form, we risk losing the simple pleasures and insights of mindful movement and may end up perpetuating the barrier between body and mind that, ideally, hatha yoga breaks down. We can easily forget yoga is a dance.
In this column I’ll describe a vinyasa he word can signify a particular position or movement but is most often used to refer to a series of movements consciously linked by the breath wonderful example of how a sense of dance can be preserved in yoga. This series of poses evolved, I’m sure, from yoga practiced less with ambition than with curiosity and a compelling impulse to see beyond the familiar boundaries of asana.
Though the sequence can be great fun, it requires both shoulder and spinal flexibility, so I advise waiting until the latter part of your practice when you are thoroughly warmed up before trying it. To prepare for the sequence you can practice backbends and shoulder openers. Also, as you progress through the sequence, keep in mind that you don’t have to complete the whole vinyasa. The point is just to get into the flow and explore.
Engaging the Shoulders
The series begins with Adho Mukha Svanasana (Downward-Facing Dog Pose). Though a staple of almost every hatha yoga practice, a fully satisfying Downward Dog can be incredibly elusive even for veteran practitioners. I suggest that you begin in Balasana (Child’s Pose), sitting on your heels and bending forward until your torso rests on your legs, your head on the floor, and your arms at your sides.
To become quiet and focused, close your eyes and tune in to your breathing. Do you feel your body move slightly in response to each breath? With that movement, you’re already dancing. The pulse of the breath, like a drum, serves as the rhythm for all our movements. Its beat is always there, but our bodies can become so conditioned to thinking and analyzing that we forget to simply listen for it and to feel the constant internal dance. Child’s Pose, in its simplicity, puts forth few obstacles to such internal inquiry. In quiet poses like this, the internal rhythm is so obvious that I can’t help but wonder if the original yogis became so fascinated by their own inner rhythms as they sat in meditation that eventually they couldn’t contain an urge to express that pulse externally in the movements we call asanas.
